THE SENTINEL 

By Tessa Harvey

    This Sylvia person could not be that blighter Karl's child. From his data, he knew that man mostly known as Tony Smith was not the father. The eyes were just like his own. One was blue, the other hazel with green and olive.
    Although battered, the face, feminine and pretty, still closely resembled his own. Suddenly he said, as he heard police and ambulance approaching "I will come with you." He heard her mumble "Prom...Prom." "Yes, I promise."
    Then he had to move away.
    Quickly he drove his car to where he knew there was a layby about a quarter of a mile away. Then he ran like a young man back along the winding road. They were closing the ambulance doors. He grabbed his card and credentials.
    The paramedics hesitated. "Please, I am her father." He was hustled inside, stumbling. Still trying to get enough air into his lungs, the large woman paramedic glared at him.
    It was obvious he had no authority here. Humbled, his thoughts racing, he perched on the little seat provided feeling like one of the crabs tumbling suddenly on the deck of a Bering Sea fishing boat, wondering where to put his long arms and legs - wondering how this young woman was, how she had come to be....
    Why? Why had he never been told?

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